|Poster:||THANH-THANH||Date:||Feb 13, 2020 8:25pm|
Would you examine my eyes?
There is something strange to arise:
Partly cerulean in the bright moon,
Partly rosy with the summer sun to tune,
Partly yellow like a dry afternoon.
Examine my eyes, would you?
There is some scintillating hue,
But not leucoma at all
Nor cataract as you call.
Examine my eyes, please.
There is something not at ease:
Nor even astigmatism, so-and-so.
The corneas are still clear, I know;
My eyes are still pure…
Oh, in fact, about it I am quite sure.
No need to look for (there is no border!)
Because it is my mental disorder:
Your image in my eyes!
Truly, to any diseases I have no ties.
It does not involve pathology;
I need your attention (it is psychology!),
In order to be beside you, my dear.
You are a smile, cheer;
You are a fresh rose
To make my heart for ever warm, close,
For me to trust and love life.